


Majesty

by Nopeneveragain8



Category: Ghost (Swedish Band)
Genre: Finger Sucking, Glove Kink, Minor Degradation, ring/hand/finger kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-26 13:58:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13859196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nopeneveragain8/pseuds/Nopeneveragain8
Summary: Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos make me happy!





	1. Chapter 1

Relax.

_The first Ritual is always the hardest, but you’ll get by. Try not to let Papa’s presence overwhelm you. Breathe._

The advice of the other ghouls was sound, you’re sure. But in the moment, it takes all your might not to allow your trembling legs to fail beneath you. Your first. The training it had taken to be initiated as a Ghoul of Lucifer’s Church was rigorous, and you were to participate in your first procession today.  Not a major role, nothing to fear, except…

                A door opens to your right, and a terrible figure strides through, eyes scanning the room. Papa Emeritus the Second. Though you’d seen him before from afar, per tradition, you were to properly meet today for the first time. He steps in your direction— muted light catches on the emerald hem of his chasuble, his eyes look into you, you try to stand as tall and unafraid as you can muster.

                “Welcome to our family, ghuleh. I trust you are ready for this?”

                You reach out to shake his outstretched hand, only to feel it close around yours, pulling it up firmly, level with his face. Cold, piercing eyes never leave yours as he rubs your fingers between his leather-clad fingers and palm, tugging gently to place a ceremonious kiss on your hand. Your eyes fix onto the rings adorning his fingers, their silver sigils and runes gleam against the black leather. The firmness of his grip on you, the brush of his lips against your hand, the stimuli put all sorts of unwelcome thoughts into your head. _Those rings pressed up against your face, those hands curling around your neck…_

                “Satan’s blessings unto you, child.”

Papa gives your hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it. You blush, hoping your face did not give away the perverse imagery swirling through your mind. His face is stark and composed, though you catch the corner of a smirk as he turns toward the rest of the ghouls to begin leading the procession. He stands by the door as the rest of the congregation files through the door to the church. You begin to follow in your peers’ wake, foot upon the threshold, when Papa discreetly grabs your arm, pulling you backwards to stumble outside of view from the ritual hall. He tugs more forcefully once you regain your balance, pushing your back into the wall and closing the distance between you. You stare up at him, eyes wide, heartbeat slamming at your ears.

                “Do you think your Papa is imperceptive, young one? Do I seem a fool to you?”

                “N—no, my Papa.”

                “No indeed. Your eyes lingered so very long, just then, full of such need. Tell me, little one.”

                The priest raises his hand slowly, pressing the cold silver of a ring to your lips, pressing, hard.

                “Do you want this in your pretty little mouth?”

                You nod fervently, gliding your lower lip over the juncture of his glove and the curve of the ring.

                “Kiss it.”

                You slowly press your mouth to the jewel, parting your lips just enough to let them slide against the stone and metal. Papa exhales hard, pressing the ring harder into your mouth. After a few moments of this, he abruptly pulls his hand back, sneering down at you once more. He leans down to you, mismatched eyes level with your own, bright with unmistakable, terrifying lust.

                “Tonight. After evening prayer, you will meet me here.”

                With these words, the priest turns on his heel and retreats out the door. You remain still, back against the wall, breathing hard. Tonight.


	2. Majesty Chapter 2

Eleven fifty-nine. Your palms sweat as you look frantically from one side of the hall to the other. You shift your weight between your feet, viscerally aware of how _loudly_ you’re breathing.

                You hear heavy footsteps to your left. Papa turns the corner, slowly clearing the space between you, hungry eyes darting over your form in the dark.

                “You did well this evening, ghuleh. Such a fine addition to our congregation.”

                Papa stops, just inches away, pressing a hand against your collarbone and pinning you back against the wall.  Slowly, he begins to drag his hand up your neck, stopping beneath your jaw.

                “Tell me. Do you find pleasure in obedience, little one? To be told what to do, to do what you’re told? To have your Papa’s gloves against your skin?”

He brings his other hand to cover your mouth. The coarse scent of leather fills your nostrils. You close your eyes and brush your face against his hand. Papa chuckles softly.

                “Stick out your tongue, little one.”

 You eagerly oblige, but are met with a sharp slap to your cheek a moment later. Reflexively, you let out a slight moan—hopefully Papa mistakes it for pain alone?

                “Wider, little one. Surely you can do better?” He rubs along the side of your cheek. Though it’s shameful to admit, his glove against your face, the twinge in your cheek-- it makes you long for more.  

                You extend your tongue against his hand, eyes pouring over the tight leather on his knuckles,  the rings adorning his fingers. He drags his palm languidly across your tongue, allowing you to feel the tiny rivulets on its surface, the taste of jet-black leather lighting desire between your thighs.

                “Keep going, ghuleh. Wouldn’t want to have Papa smack your little cheek again, hmm?”

                You hesitate at the question, breath held in your chest. _Just say no_. But you can’t—the memory, the fresh, beautiful sting buzzing at your nerves keeps you silent. Papa cocks an eyebrow.

                “Would we?”

                You open your mouth to reply, but again find no words; a moment feels as an eternity under his scrutinizing gaze. A cruel smile curls at his lips as he discerns the meaning of your silence. He tightens his grip around your throat just enough to notice as he speaks,

                “Naughty, dirty little thing. Do you like it when your Papa slaps you? Do you want to feel it _again_?”

                Quite sure he expects an answer this time, you speak. “Yes, please, Papa.”

                He raises his free hand again, dragging it along your cheek, then dealing another swift slap on top of the first. You let yourself moan audibly this time, and you can see Papa’s jaw tighten as he watches your cheeks flush under his touch.

                “Please, more…Papa” The words escape your lips before you can think.

                Papa smirks, curling his hand around your throat, cutting off oxygen, keeping your head pinned against the wall. He follows with several more slaps across your face, alternating with slow brushes across your tongue with his fingertips. Each blow sends waves of heat between your thighs, amplified by his choking grip on your neck.

                “Such a naughty, desperate little thing.”

                Papa loosens his grip on your throat and gives your cheek a quick final smack. He leans in, gripping your chin in his hand, and presses his lips to yours. His kiss is cold and unceremonious, but you whimper into it nonetheless. His voice is possessive, almost playful when he finally pulls back,

                “Do you want to feel your Papa’s gloves more intimately, my disgusting little ghoul? Would you to hear him call you names and make you beg?”

                “Y-yes, Papa”

                “Come, then.”

                He grabs your arm above the elbow, pulling you behind him as the pair of you advance through the halls. He pauses to unlock a door, then leads you through. Your eyes soak in the room, dim moonlight shining in through stained-glass. The Chapel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos make me happy!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos make my day! :) Chapter two coming later today...


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